Seduction
by quillon
Summary: Faramir and Eowyn spend lunch together. Please R&R.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, but they do like to stop by occasionally for dinner and a snooze in the spare room.  
  
A/N: This is pure fluff, solely for fun and shall only be updated when my other story is driving me bananas!! I hope you enjoy it!!  
  
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"Éowyn, did you have aught important planned for today?" Faramir, sitting at his desk, was quickly glancing through a stack of correspondence that he had not had time to answer yet. His work as the Prince of Ithilien seemed to draw his attention from me much more than it used to. "I just have so much work to get done here. . . ."  
  
I sighed, but he seemed not to notice. "Nay, husband, though I thought we might take lunch together, if you can drag yourself away. . . ."  
  
He finally glanced up at me with an absent smile as he shuffled yet more parchment around. "Lunch?"  
  
My hands went to my hips of their own accord. "Yes, surely you remember it. The meal that comes between breakfast and dinner? Usually at midday?"  
  
His eyebrows shot up, and then he had the gall to look wounded. "My lady, have I done something to offend you? You seem somewhat . . . well, bothered."  
  
I could feel the ire rising in me, and I did naught to stop it as I took a step closer to his desk. "My lord prince, how could you possibly offend me? You are never within my sight for longer than five minutes at a time, and always you are busy!"  
  
His expression became one of wariness, and he set his work aside, finally turning his full attention upon me. But he said naught, simply waiting for me to continue. It is to his credit that he has always known how to take the fight out of me.  
  
My hands fell from my hips, and I looked away from him, failing to hide my woeful expression from his eyes, though he waited patiently and silently for me to regain my composure. I turned my face back to him at length, and murmured, "Nay, husband, I have naught important planned for today. I am sorry that I have kept you from your work." I bowed my head to him in farewell and turned to leave his study.  
  
"Éowyn, please . . . do not leave," he said softly. I froze in my tracks, feeling slightly victorious that he had called me back. "Obviously we have things to discuss, my lady." I heard him rise from his chair and could feel him approaching me. He came very close, but did not touch me, though I longed for it. "Was it lunch that you would like to spend with me, Éowyn?"  
  
His tone was one of tenderness, and I did not trust that my voice would hold long enough to reply to him, so I merely nodded.  
  
He continued, "I would like very much to take lunch with you, my dear. If you will allow it, I will arrange everything?" Again I nodded. He said nothing for a moment, before he murmured, "Very well. I shall fetch you at lunchtime then."  
  
I took this as a dismissal, and departed his study without another word.  
  
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There was a soft knock upon the door of my sitting room shortly before lunchtime, and I rose to quickly open the door, expecting my husband. But it was only Sanor, our master of horse, uncomfortably holding his hat in his hands, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I felt somewhat disappointed by this, as I had spent the remainder of my morning arranging my hair as fetchingly as I could contrive, and choosing a pale blue gown that I know my husband particularly likes me to wear, looking forward to seeing his expression when first he gazed upon me.  
  
"My lady, I have been sent for you by Lord Faramir. Windfola has been saddled and awaits you in the paddock."  
  
"Thank you, Sanor," I said confusedly, "but where am I to ride him?"  
  
"All shall be revealed," he answered cryptically with a bow. I shrugged and made my way to the stable, eager to discover where my husband wished for me to ride.  
  
Windfola stood, snorting somewhat impatiently I thought, in the paddock, just as Sanor had said. I noticed that before the gate were thickly strewn pink and white rose petals, and I saw that there was yet a trail of them that led deeper into the wood. I smiled, realizing that lunch was going to be a grander affair than I had first anticipated.  
  
I mounted my stallion and set off at a gentle pace so that I would not lose sight of the trail as I descended into the lush coolness of the forest. I shivered a little, not having worn a cloak, as it was midsummer, but the shade of the thick trees blocked the sun's rays very effectively.  
  
I need not have concerned myself, though. The trail of petals pooled into a small pile at the foot of a huge lebethron tree, where my lord's black cloak was draped over one of the lower branches. I laughed in delight as I snatched it up, pulling it close about myself and inhaling his scent before I noticed that there was also a note attached to it. I unpinned the parchment and unfolded it, revealing a short letter, written in Faramir's neat hand:  
  
My love,  
  
I thought that perhaps you might have more need of this than I  
do. I await your arrival nearby!  
  
Faramir  
  
I glanced about giddily, wondering if I was being watched as I read, but I saw no one, and so, now grinning happily, I resumed following the trail that he had left for me.  
  
It was not long before I heard a faint rushing sound, and soon I arrived at the edge of a small clearing where sunlight fell upon a pool of dazzlingly clear water. A small waterfall fed it, and I was amazed that these woods yet held secrets from me, as I had thought that Windfola and I had covered every inch of the forest within miles of our house.  
  
And here the trail of petals ended. I dismounted, looking around myself in wonder at the beauty that Faramir had chosen to share with me, and I stepped further into the tiny glade, reveling in the sound of the cascade of water into this hidden pond, surrounded by small mossy hillocks and clusters of white lilies that were in full bloom. The edges of the forest, in their darkness, were the perfect background for this cozy, green paradise. I laughed out loud and clasped my hands together in delight.  
  
"It is not even half as beautiful as you are." His voice was soft, and yet I was startled a little, and I whirled to face him. He stood within the shadows of the trees, dressed all in black, watching me intently. I took a step toward him, intending to thank him for showing me this place, but he held up his hand, and took a step toward me. "Please, I want to remember you thus, face aglow, eyes sparkling." He chuckled. "Your smile is likely to shame Anar from the heavens, my dear." He stood only a moment longer, and then he sighed almost in disappointment that the moment had to end, before he approached me, though he stayed a few paces away.  
  
He gestured to his right, and there at the edge of the clearing was a woolen blanket and next to it, a large basket. "My lady, if you would care to join me?" He held his arm out in a formal manner, and I went to him, taking it with a smile, caressing his arm through his doublet as he looked down at me with his shining grey eyes, a smile playing softly upon his lips, lips that I longed to kiss, and yet, when I leaned toward him, he turned his head toward our destination and bade me to sit upon the blanket.  
  
I wondered what game he was playing at but only smiled and sat down, arranging my frock as attractively as I could, while he knelt on the opposite end of the blanket, and opened the basket with a flourish. I peered inside as he listed the contents, and set them out in front of us, one at a time.  
  
"All of my lady's favorites: honey cakes with lots of butter, a half- round of soft cheese, the darkest, densest loaf of bread I could get Talaith to bake on such short notice, ale, of course, and for dessert, blueberries!"  
  
I smiled at his enthusiasm before he pulled a single plate from the basket, and using his own dagger, concentrated on cutting each of the foods into delicate tidbits. He set the plate before me, as he returned his dagger to its sheath. I reached for a piece of honey cake, but he gently stayed my hand with his.  
  
"Nay, Éowyn, allow me," he softly scolded. As he picked up the morsel and held it to my lips, I opened my mouth, and he gently placed the tidbit inside before he caressed my lips with his fingers. I shivered at his touch, and more so at his expression as he smiled at me, his intentions plain upon his face.  
  
Still, I had to ask, as I lowered my eyes demurely, "My lord, are you trying to seduce me?"  
  
"Nay, my lady," he answered in a tone that made my insides tickle, "I was hoping that you might seduce me." He dropped a bit of bread into his own mouth and sat nonchalantly chewing, carefully watching me and waiting for my reply. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Note the change in rating from PG-13 to R. I'm not saying they're gonna get that naughty, but I wanna be sure that no one is caught unawares just in case.  
  
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"I was hoping that you might seduce me."  
  
My eyes flew to his face, and ridiculously, I blushed, summoning a smug smile to my lord's face. "Faramir, whatever shall I do with you?"  
  
His smile broadened. "That, my dear wife, is up to you."  
  
"And what, sir, would you do if I told you that I am unwilling to seduce you?" I asked teasingly.  
  
If he was surprised by my words, he did not show it. "I would humble myself before you, and beg, like an obedient dog might."  
  
I shrugged off his cloak, noting that the day was becoming quite warm now. As the garment fell from my shoulders, he watched me avidly.  
  
I spoke. "I have not the patience to speak you soft words of poetry, nor to adorn a forgotten path through the forest with rose petals. I believe in directness, as you well know."  
  
He nodded gravely, though his eyes yet sparkled with mischief. And so I flung myself upon him, our picnic forgotten, and crushed his mouth beneath mine as he fell back onto the cool moss. He moaned, and held onto me, as he struggled for air, before I pulled back to judge his reaction, intently searching his grey eyes.  
  
He grinned like a besotted fool.  
  
"What say you, Lord Faramir?" I asked him, growing more comfortable with this seeming reversal of roles.  
  
"I am yours to command, my lady," he whispered breathlessly. "I am helpless before you, er, beneath you, as always."  
  
"Shameless," I whispered back before I cut off any reply he might have had with another deep kiss, this one much more gentle. I let it linger, and suddenly I felt his hands frantically attempting to unfasten the back of my gown. I quickly pushed myself upright, leaving him looking somewhat baffled upon the ground.  
  
"You are mine to command?" I asked. He nodded, slightly breathless.  
  
"Yes, Éowyn, I said as much."  
  
"Then I command you to lie still, and let me work!"  
  
"As you will," he murmured, a slight blush coloring his cheeks, though he was unable to keep himself from smiling yet again. He lay in submission beneath me as his lips yielded to another of my forthright kisses. And then I stroked his face, wondering at the gentleness of his expression which was at odds with the fierce passion within his eyes. I raised myself again, and with my free hand, I reached for the topmost fastening on his black doublet and worked it loose ever so slowly, my fingers gently brushing against his throat. I loosen the remaining fastenings at a measured pace, delighting in his reaction.  
  
I grinned as he began to hum softly, his grey eyes taking on a feverish quality as they bored into mine. The hum changed as his mouth began to form words, inaudible and disjointed at first, but then he began to form complete sentences, and I heard him murmur, "I once was a man stranded on the peak of a high, cold mountain of loneliness, freezing to death in the snow, exposed to the icy winds of isolation, but you discovered me there, and you gave me your companionship, your warm presence filling me with joy. I once was a man lost in a desert of sadness, the sun beating down upon my back as I was dying of thirst, but the cool oasis of your voice provided me relief from the never-ending heat, supplying me with a refreshing drink from the sweet fountain of your love. I once was a man drowning in despair, wave after wave crashing over my head, forcing me beneath the surface, but you pulled me from the tumultuous waves merely with your touch, cradling me safely within your arms, holding me safe in the shelter of your strength. I love you, Éowyn."  
  
His flowery words pleased me, and I began to undo the fastenings upon his white linen shirt, and he continued, his voice growing huskier by the moment, "You have bewitched me, my lady. I am under your spell so thoroughly that I am lost in the depths of your glowing grey orbs, drowning in helpless need. Never has a man been blessed with a more lovely wife."  
  
With a laugh, I slipped both of my hands within his shirt and lightly caressed his chest, pulling his shirt and doublet open in the process. The sun reflected upon his muscled chest and abdomen, and as I began to kiss him there, he became even more poetically delirious.  
  
"You are the most beautiful creature upon Arda, fairer than these white lilies that stand guard around us, filling the air with their intoxicating scent. But your delightful perfume is enough to make me quite pleasantly drunk as I lose myself within it, for roses and lilacs have ever been my favorites. You, lady, are fairer than the lush green leaves of the tall trees of Ithilien, dewy in the morning, their symmetry reminding me of the perfection of your body, their shade dancing gently upon the forest floor, providing relief from the afternoon heat. You are fairer even than the pale light of Ithil as Tilion himself steers her across the heavens, illuminating the landscape, turning the darkness into a magically glowing scene, just as the light that your soul emits drives away the shadow in the darkest night."  
  
I laughed, charmed by the poetry that tripped from his tongue as easily as the water flowed into the nearby pool. "Eru's tears, Faramir! Your tongue, though it creates beautiful language, is misused at the moment. Will you not quiet yourself and kiss me?"  
  
His expression melted into pure happiness, and he complied, kissing me deeply, the touch of his tongue against mine thrilling me, the feel of his arms wrapped tightly around me quickening the beating of my heart, until its pace matched his own. I finally broke away from the kiss with a smile.  
  
I trailed a light finger over his chest and purred, "Faramir? Do you think the pool is warm enough for bathing?"  
  
"Hmm. I shall see." Gently setting me aside, he stood up. After removing his doublet and setting it aside on the mossy ground, he began with exquisitely slow movements, to pull his shirt from his trousers, then shrug it off of his well-muscled shoulders, dropping it as well.  
  
I itched to reach out and touch his exposed flesh, but I knew that the slightest touch would probably bring an immediate end to this seductive discarding of clothing. Again, I marveled at the beauty and grace of his every movement. Everything about him enchants me, and I waited in breathless anticipation as I watched.  
  
Ever so slowly, his hands reached to his waist, and I waited for him to continue his erotic disrobing. My eyes rose to meet his dark gaze, his grey eyes issuing a silent dare to resist him, and I knew that it was beyond my power to do so.  
  
He smiled wickedly and reached his hands toward me, pulling me upright into his embrace, and I delightedly leaned against his bare chest. I slid my arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet my lips. The kiss was magical, speaking of love, trust and devotion, promising an eternity of absolute commitment to one another.  
  
I would not wait another moment for him. I trailed butterfly kisses across his chest, making a hot, sensuous path with my lips to the hollow at his throat, where I felt the rapid pulse beating there, and I sensed his impatience, too. I gasped when he suddenly bent slightly, and then his strong arms captured me around my waist and in back of my knees, lifting me up.  
  
With a sudden laugh, he sprinted toward the pool, and before I could wholly understand his intentions, he had reached the edge of the water, and with boyish enthusiasm, flung me into it. I rose to the top, gasping for air, yet amused by his actions despite being completely soaked in my favorite gown. I saw him smirk then, gazing upon my chest of all places, and he said, his eyes dancing merrily, "Hmm, it appears that the water is slightly chilly, my love."  
  
He would pay dearly for that. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Short but sweet (I think).  
  
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My lovely, wonderful wife, how I love her! And if she were to ask me to run through fire for her, I would gladly do it. But that does not make her immune from my rare bouts of foolery.  
  
As soon as I dropped her into the water, I realized that I was now in mortal peril, though I could not help but grin at her, and my heart melted when a slow smile spread across her beautiful face. She slapped the surface of the water in a weak attempt to get me wet as well, but I was too fast for her, darting out of the way just in time.  
  
When I had suggested that she seduce me, I had not expected things to get so serious quite so fast, though all that she had done so far had delighted me beyond the telling of it. But to actually suggest swimming when we were so close to . . . well, to be blunt, the deed, it made me want to scream in frustration and laugh in delight at the same time. Tossing her into the pool was the closest that I could come to achieving both. But now, I had a wet wildcat on my hands.  
  
Lucky me.  
  
"Faramir, you come here right this minute!" she scolded as she laughed. I grinned most evilly at her predicament.  
  
I shook my head. "Nay, Éowyn, you must come to me."  
  
"I would, but I am becoming accustomed to the temperature of this water now, my lord." She was behaving most coquettishly, and I adored her all the more for it. I saw her slipping out of her wet clothing, as I could just make out her nakedness beneath the surface of the clear water, and I remembered that Éowyn does not dally over small things like being wet or cold. She likes to come to the point quickly, and I found myself involuntarily doing the same.  
  
"I am waiting," I said, hoping that it sounded sufficiently impatient.  
  
I groaned as she, surprisingly, slowly emerged from the pool, leaving her clothing behind, her nakedness dazzlingly glorious in the bright sunlight of the afternoon. Golden hair hanging long and dripping down her slender back, grey eyes glowing with anticipation, her lushly feminine curves bared to my very interested eyes, Éowyn approached. In a moment her mouth was tight against mine once more as she arched her body against me.  
  
Drawing back from me abruptly, she breathlessly whispered, "I have felt neglected of late, Lord Faramir, but perhaps if you would allow me to show you the error of your ways, I might feel compensated for the lack of your attentions."  
  
I did not trust my voice, for she was driving me to the edge of madness. And so, I simply offered her my hand and let her lead me where she would.  
  
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My husband has been called bookish by people who do not know him well, for to the average bystander, he seems painfully so. He is ever caught up in his paperwork as Prince of Ithilien or Steward of Gondor, and if that was not enough for him, always he is reading some forgotten history of some forgotten place, while he sits in his study, all else about him forgotten.  
  
But any who know him well, any who have seen him swing a sword or draw a bow, any who have seen him interacting with his children, any who have been lucky enough to see his smile when he is totally at ease, know that 'bookish' is a very inadequate description of Faramir. There are not enough words in the language to describe all of the facets of his personality. The only word I could choose for Faramir is 'mine'. And he is mine, body and soul, though his mind wanders quite often.  
  
But I had his full attention now.  
  
"Faramir," I said huskily, as I stooped down, scooping up a handful slick, wet mud from the edge of the pool, smearing it over my breasts in a teasing manner.  
  
"Yes, love?" he uttered, the blood draining from his face, my husband completely mesmerized by my wanton display.  
  
With a swift motion, I scooped up yet more of the muck, and I let fly, the mud splattering heavily upon his face. So surprised was he by it that I had time for another try, and while he was laughingly attempting to rid his right eye of some of the dark goo, I pulled his feet from under him, landing him flat upon his bare back upon the moss-covered ground, and while he was halfheartedly calling for mercy between giggles, I dragged him by his boots into the depths of the cool water, my revenge against him deliciously complete. 


	4. Chapter 4

Later, I awakened to find Éowyn asleep next to me, her soft breaths caressing my shoulder as she lay upon her side, lips slightly parted, and I smiled to see her so at ease. We were lying upon the blanket, both of us covered by my cloak, as those had been the only sizeable scraps of fabric remaining that had not been completely doused in water. I watched her sleep, and I sighed in contentment, wondering why we did not do this more often.  
  
But I knew the answer, of course. It was my fault, for I have the most tiresome tendency of becoming too enthralled in my work, to the point of failing to notice all else, even my family on occasion. But Éowyn always manages to bring me back to reality somehow, although not always as gently as she did today, for I had deserved much less from her than had I received, and I was grateful for every second of our time together.  
  
I turned onto my side and, resting on one elbow, I allowed myself a single, long, stirring caress. Starting at her head, I gently raked my fingers through the damp, tangled tresses, then advanced to the exquisite curve of her cheekbone before dipping into the enchanting hollow between neck and shoulder. I dragged my index finger down the soft flesh of her inner arm and traced her narrow, graceful wrist.  
  
She had wakened by the time I reached her hand, and she caught my fingers in her own and raised them to her lips. Soft as rose petals, her kisses brushed each of my fingers in turn, while her shining grey eyes clung to mine and sent silent, glowing messages. At last, I moved over her and tasted her lips which were sweeter than honey.  
  
"Faramir?" she murmured against my lips.  
  
I groaned and tried to keep her from talking by kissing her all the more. But she was having none of it and pushed me back. I growled at her.  
  
"Are you not hungry, love?" she asked innocently.  
  
I lowered my head once again, kissing her delicate earlobe. "Indeed, I am hungry, Éowyn," I whispered earnestly between kisses. "Please, let me assuage it." But she laughingly pushed me away again. "Please?"  
  
"Faramir, this was supposed to be a time for lunch, but we have eaten very little." She reached over and pulled the basket of food closer to us.  
  
I sighed in exasperation and rested my forehead upon the blanket next to her head for just a moment before I rolled over onto my back to await her next move.  
  
"What would my lord like to eat first?" she asked, sitting up.  
  
I waved my hand in dismissal, and I sat as well. "It matters not, wife." Éowyn poured two cups of ale and offered one to me, before raising her cup in a toast.  
  
"To Faramir, the most patient man in the world. I love you, husband."  
  
Murmuring my thanks to her, I modestly lowered my eyes as she drained her cup. Then I offered my own toast.  
  
"To Éowyn, the most lovely woman that I know. I love you more than I shall ever be able to tell you, but I shall never stop trying." I drained my own cup, and she kissed me on the cheek.  
  
"It occurs to me, Faramir," she said at length, as she nibbled upon some bread and cheese, offering me small bites in between, "that we shall look a mess in our sodden clothing when we return to the house. In fact, I have managed to lose one of my slippers in yonder pool," she laughed.  
  
I joined her in her mirth. "Never mind, lady, I shall see you home safely. Perhaps we shall not be noticed."  
  
"I think not, Faramir," she said, caressing my arm, "for we have Windfola here, and he shall have need of Sanor when we arrive."  
  
"Nonsense. I can curry Windfola as well as Sanor can!"  
  
Her flirtatious expression returned as she looked me up and down. "I hope that you might allow me to watch, my lord."  
  
"Of course! I would have it no other way, Éowyn." I rose and strode to the pool, hoping to find Éowyn's slipper before it was time to depart this place.  
  
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'Sexy' is not a word bandied about in Gondorian society as a rule. In fact, most people of Gondor blush to hear the word. I know because, without realizing, I said it one time at a dinner party, in reference to my husband, and I thought that several of the ladies, and a few of the men there might swoon from it. But I suppose that is to be expected in a society where married people generally have separate bed chambers, and at the very least, separate beds. My husband and I do not. The Steward of Gondor and his untamed Rohirric wife are often the subject of gossip, which is sometimes annoying, but generally I find it quite amusing, and my husband pays no attention at all to it.  
  
I wondered what those tongue-waggers would say if they could see their steward now, padding unselfconsciously across the mossy ground, without a stitch of clothing upon his finely-sculptured body, before he dove into the pool to find his wife's misplaced shoe. I downed another cup of ale before I stood up and awaited his return.  
  
It was not long before he emerged, my errant slipper in his hand, though I hardly noticed it, so enraptured by him was I. I looked at him as if for the first time. Raven black hair, glistening with moisture, clung to a strong brow. Ebony lashes framed his flashing grey eyes. A perfect nose, wide cheekbones, a square jaw, and a full, sensuous mouth add to the features of the man that I love above all others.  
  
Though lean, his body is beautifully formed, his chest, shoulders and arms all well-muscled from years of practice with a bow. His smile revealed a flawless sparkle of white teeth, and when he stepped onto the shore, the ripple of well-defined muscle down his belly stole my breath away, and he laughed then to know that he held such power over me.  
  
I awaited him impatiently, and he slowly approached me, his eyes growing darker with desire with every step he took. When he was at last close enough, I entwined my fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth down upon mine. With a contented sigh, he gently lowered me onto the blanket, and we made love until the sun was low in the sky. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Whee!

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Éowyn had fallen asleep in the crook of my arm, her head resting softly upon my shoulder, her arm flung almost protectively across my body. I softly caressed her cheek with the backs of my fingers, realizing that our time here had been wasted sleeping. I called her name softly, and she wakened, stretching languidly at my side. She tightened her arm across my chest for a moment before she slid her hand along my ribs to my abdomen, where she began to draw agonizingly slow circles upon my skin with a feather light touch of her fingertips. "Are you sufficiently rested, Faramir?"  
  
I chuckled. "Oh, yes, my dear, though I fear that we slept much too long, for the sun is setting."  
  
She stretched again. "A long lunch indeed," she purred.  
  
"Mmm. The length of this lunch could rival some of the working lunches I have attended in Minas Tirith in council chambers, though the company is infinitely better. It is now dinnertime," I observed.  
  
"I have not had dinner alone with my husband in what seems like ages," she chuckled, kissing my cheek before she sat up to fetch us some ale. "Though, alas, perhaps we should return home now, as I am certain that the household guards are probably beginning to wonder about our whereabouts."  
  
She passed a cup of ale to me, and I nodded my thanks. "I suppose you are right, Éowyn," I said rather disappointedly after taking a sip. "I hope that you have enjoyed our time together."  
  
Éowyn's eyes sparkled as she spoke. "This time has meant more to me than I can tell you, my lord." She drank some ale before she continued. "I hope that we might make a habit of this, in fact."  
  
I raised my eyebrows. "Indeed? You shall not grow tired of me?"  
  
She smiled bewitchingly. "I think not, husband. I would have to be a very stupid woman to grow tired of you." She giggled. "I like growing tired _with_ you."  
  
Chuckling at that, I finished my ale before I stood and gathered my damp clothes, putting them on as I came to them. When I was finished, I turned to find my still-naked wife laughing at me.  
  
"What?" I asked in mock indignation.  
  
"Faramir, you look like you fell into the River Anduin and decided to take up residence with the frogs on the shore. Never have I seen so much mud in one place!"  
  
I shrugged and grinned. "If you will recall, my lady, it was you who dragged me through the mud and into the water. I had little choice in the matter."  
  
"I would rather have tossed you in, as you did to me, but I have not the strength, husband," she tittered, drawing her sodden frock up over her hips and slipping her arms into it, before she turned, silently asking me to fasten the back of it for her. I did not refuse, knowing that this might provide me with another opportunity to seduce my lovely wife.  
  
As gently as I could, I slipped my fingers onto the warm skin of her back, pretending to button her dress. Unable to resist her, I bent my head down toward her, brushing my lips against the side of her neck, in the sensitive spot just below her delicate ear, causing her breath to catch softly. Chuckling throatily into her ear, I slipped her gown just off of her shoulders, effectively holding her arms within the sleeves, pinning them to her sides as I slipped my hands within the bodice, capturing her lovely breasts within my gentle grasp.  
  
She moaned softly as I caressed the taut nipples beneath the fabric. "My lord, I know not if I have the strength for this again," she breathed, and I chuckled once more.  
  
"Fear not. I shall give you the strength, my lady."

* * *

As he momentarily removed his hands from my bodice, he turned me to face him, and I nearly stopped breathing when I saw the adoration within his stormy, grey eyes. Ever so gently he disrobed me once more, the damp gown falling easily from my body, revealing me once again to his ravenous eyes. He stepped close and drew the edge of his thumb gently across my tingling breast while his other hand held my head, crushing my mouth to his. The moan that escaped him made my knees weak, and I began to sink down upon the blanket once more, his gentle hands guiding me to a comfortable position beneath him.  
  
When his lips finally released mine, I murmured, "Once again, we are mismatched. You are overdressed, Faramir."  
  
"Hmm, yes, I had forgotten," he whispered, gazing into my eyes. With a graceful turn, he was lying upon his back with me atop him, and his eyes invited me to undress him at my leisure. Ah, how I love my husband! As delicately as if he had been made of spun glass, I began to unwrap my present once again, taking my time to ensure that he was receiving every bit of pleasure that I was. As I unfastened his doublet, shirt, and trousers, I brushed my fingers gently against his chest and belly, lightly kissing his many scars, thrilled by the tremors that ran through his fantastic body.  
  
Without warning, I plunged my hand within his small clothes, and he gasped and bucked as if I had laid a hot iron against his bare skin. "Please, Éowyn," he moaned. "I cannot bear it."  
  
"You must, my lord. I am giving you no other choice," I chuckled, as I began to rhythmically massage his member, bringing him quickly to full arousal. "Is there aught else I can do for you, my husband?"  
  
"Oh," he moaned in ecstasy, his eyes closed, his hands reaching for me. Blindly, he brushed his hands over my belly and then one found its way between my legs. He chuckled then, as I melted with desire, going to my hands and knees over him, a moan of pleasure escaping my lips. Deftly, he rolled me onto my back, continuing his delicious massage as his other hand brushed my hair away from my face so that he might see my expression more easily.  
  
He sweetly kissed my lips before he began to trail kisses down my throat, eventually reaching my chest, where he drew the sensitive tip of my breast into his mouth, sucking delicately at it while he tickled it with the tip of his tongue. This attention was then lavished on the other breast before his kisses trailed farther down my belly. With a quick movement of his body, his tongue replaced his fingers, and I grew frantic under his ministrations, tangling my fingers within his unruly hair, as I arched my back, drawing closer and closer to my climax.  
  
Just before I thought I should explode from the sweet torture that Faramir was subjecting me to, he moved again, quickly positioning himself above me, his searching eyes asking permission first, which I happily granted with a nod before he plunged deeply into my body with a triumphant smile firmly upon his lips. I marveled once more at the raw power that he was capable of as he moved rhythmically within me, bringing us ever closer to ecstasy. I matched his thrusts with movements of my own, and it was not very long before I peaked with a small cry, and then he reached his own climax, spilling his seed within me with a shout of joy. When the shuddering of his body finally abated, he turned us once more, allowing me to rest upon his heaving chest as we patiently awaited our breathing and heartbeats to resume their normal rates. I laughed in delight, absolutely enchanted by this man who had so thoroughly captured my heart. No, I think that I shall never tire of Faramir, Prince of Ithilien. 


End file.
